Search This Blog

Wednesday, 31 July 2013

There's
no doubt that in recent months we have seen the rise of 60s inspired
bands in the wake of the phenomenal success of Jake Bugg.

The ones
that are floating to the top are all of a certain type though.

Mainly
precocious teens reliving a sound that was already old when their
parents were teenagers.

While
some of the acts are impressive to a degree there's already talk that
apart from Bugg the bubble will soon burst as there's a gap between
what is being pushed into the market and what the listener is looking
to hear.

It would
seem that the labels who jumped on the Bugg bandwagon may have
misjudged the appetite of the public for fresh faced kids wearing
Beatle-esque suits and pedalling a clean take on early pop.

So with
that in mind it would be easy to discount others who are treading a
similar path.

However
that would leave us missing out on the gloriously joyous take on
skiffle by Scotland's own Cabey.

There's
no real attempt to emulate current trends, but instead a very strong
sense of a young man immersing himself in a traditional sound that is
really the roots of the UKs rock and roll scene that everything grew
from.

On the
track Dr Feelgood there's the paring of Lonnie Donegan with the
outlaw lyricism of country legend Johnny Cash, and although the music
itself is echoing the past there's a timeless attraction to it when
the material is so lovingly embraced.

Once the movers and shakers have dropped the kids in the leather waistcoats and mop tops
there's a very good chance that when the dust clears Cabey will be
the last man standing due to his avoidance of letting a label
manufacture a sound and image for him.

Dr
Feelgood is out on Monday 5th August on itunes and other
download sites

Cabey will be supporting Steve Diggle in Glasgow on the 26th of September and in Kilmarnock on the 27th September.

Sometimes
there are albums out there that have been produced to within an inch
of their lives.

No chord
change is left unpolished, no vocal is as it originally sounded, and
every single trick that a sound engineer can pull out of the bag is
used two whip the music into shape.

Then even
with all that additional help it still sounds crap.

Then like
a bratty kid sticking two fingers up to the world there's the rough
demo recordings that have maybe once said hello to a guy that knew
someone that had a neighbour who worked in a recording studio for a
day as part of a back to work scheme, and yet for all the recording
shortcomings the songs shine.

There's a
vibrancy that can't be held in check and you can hear that the
material is just waiting to get a sniff at some real production
values to take it from great to jaw droppingly awesome.

And
that's exactly what we have with the Rank Berry demo recordings.

With
their influences to the fore this Glasgow band sound like the bastard
offspring of The Black Crowes and Guns and Roses who have been raised
on a diet of The Faces and Creedence Clearwater Revival.

There's
no pretence that they are anything other than what they are.

No airs
or graces, just solid rocking with classic riffs and a vocal
performance that some of the bigger more established acts of the
genre would sell their souls to have coming from the mouth of their
front-man.

With
these eight tracks already nailed down, albeit roughly, it is
probably time that they pooled the cash together and gave the
material the production that it deserves.

I suspect
that once they do that and shop the recordings around then it wont be
long until a label bites at them, and bites hard.

I've yet
to see a band in Glasgow of a similar style that can touch them live.

They have
a perverse need to wander off on a tangent just when others think
they have managed to wrap their heads around them.

The Penny
Black Remedy are like that.

Balkan
folk can effortlessly slide into some country styled ska with nary a
consideration for the discombobulation that may cause for those who
are not open to changes of pace and being wrong footed at every turn.

However
if you are the type who loves the thrill of leaping into the great
unknown then this is the band for you.

Each
track as it reveals itself is the aural equivalent of a jack in the
box bursting forth to shout 'surprise'.

Nothing
is as it seems, but all the disparate parts are stitched together so
well you can barely see the join.

The album
itself is reminiscent of a long corridor with doors lined up on
either side and if you open one it's a scene from a spaghetti western
playing out, three down on the left it's a niteclub in Berlin circa
1942, next door is the guys from Madness jamming with a polka band
and across from that there's a room full of Russians playing a
drinking game with Chas and Dave.

Not a lot
of it makes any real sense when you look directly at it, but it all
casually sits on the periphery rather comfortably just getting on
with celebrating it's differences.

So in
short let's just agree that it's brilliant and accept that being
different is actually pretty cool.

Swaggering
onto the dock with a bellyful of rum, and a sea shanty on the lips,
it rather obvious that Folk Grinder - with their debut album 'Any old
trollop, same old port' - aren't looking to slip past unnoticed.

Shaking
off their sea legs they are striding forth to capture our attention,
and it has to be said that they are doing so in a rather grand style.

It's a
cocktail of English folk, punk rock and bawdy debauchery all topped
up with copious amounts of eccentricity.

A heady
mix of of a brew that is as intoxicating as it sounds.

While
some would be quick to cast the band into the same box as acts of the
'pirate rock' sub genre - and yes there is one – they should belay
that order and open their ears up to Folk Grinder and really listen.

It then
becomes apparent that they would be more comfortable banded in with
the rogues of the romanticized glam punk scene of the late eighties
that took their cue from the Stones, Faces and Mott.

The one
that painted the sound of the seventies with a lipstick smeared sneer
as the key players watched the world go by through the bottom of a
bottle of wine.

That's
exactly where the band fit regardless of the image.

So with a
battered acoustic, and that most rock and roll of all instruments the
accordion, Folk Grinder are not to be considered a novelty act, but
instead take my word for it that they are in reality purveyors of
some mighty fine tuneage that covers everything from hip thrusting
rock and roll to heartbreaking tales of loss.

Wednesday, 10 July 2013

Party
time usually starts to ease in around Thursday, builds up through the
Friday and then goes for it big time on the Saturday.

Sunday is
of course reserved for fried breakfasts, Irn Bru* and promises of
never repeating the excesses of the Friday and Saturday again.

That's
not to say that there are more misses than hits though if you do
decide that you want to venture out prior to the end of the week.

The line
up of Andy Bargh, Black and White Boy and Cabey is a good example, if
proof was needed, that quality can rear its head on a Tuesday
evening.

With Andy
what you get is a pop start in waiting.

An
x-factor judging panel would be in the throes of ecstasy if he was to
turn up at an audition as he has everything they are looking for.

And I
mean everything.

Boy band
good looks and a voice that will never need autotuned is really just
the start of it.

If you
throw this young man a cover he will nail it.

And it is
at this point that others would think that while he may be good why
should we care as there are similarly others who parade across out
television screens most weekends.

The
reason you should care is because his talents don't just stop there.

What
differentiates Andy from the others is that his own material is a
match for any cover that he would care to wrap his talents around.

While it
is very obvious that he could fit easily into a manufactured boy band
line up it is also obvious that this would be horrendously
artistically restrictive for him.

While his
set was heavy with covers it was when he moved into his own material
that he stood apart from his peers.

With the
confidence to focus more on originally penned songs coupled with
playing to the right audience he will turn heads.

All it is
going to take is for Andy to be in the right place at the right time.

Black and
White Boy is a different story entirely.

His set
has been forged in the fire of personal loss.

It's a
tour de force of raw honesty that covers how we deal with the death
of a loved one, about how that period can often be enveloped in a
darkness that has a negative impact on those who are closest to us.

It's part
confessional, part self analysis, and maybe also a part of it is
about reaching out for absolution by sharing something that we will
all have to deal with, or will have actually already have dealt with.

No one
will manage to dodge a brush with the reaper prior to shaking his
hand, and here is Black and White Boy looking to get to grips with
that relationship and how it shaped a period of his life.

It's this
honesty factor that gives weight to the performance.

It
manages to add a sense of gravitas to the material that anchors it
solidly in the memory for those who choose to actually listen.

There
nothing lightweight about what he is doing, but equally it isn't
something that could never be described as burdensome.

You don't
leave feeling that a dark period of his life has been passed onto
you, but instead that there has been a communal sharing, and with the
personal insight he has offered that we are all probably better
people for it.

Cabey is
yet another game changer.

While
Jake Bugg is riding high in popularity here we have our own
skiffle/Merseybeat influenced one man and his guitar acoustic act
that could give him a run for his money. (And probably to a photo
finish to.)

There's a
vibrancy to what he is doing that is infectiously timeless.

From his
first thrash at the strings the material screams that the very bones
of rock and roll have a power all of their own.

If Lonnie
Donegan was alive he would raise a smile at some of the young acts
who are coming through, but I reckon Cabey could get him up to dance,
whoop and a holler.

While
others are looking to push the boundaries of technology when it comes
to making music he is a timely reminder that going back to basics has
it's own powerful allure to.

There's a
jubilant embracing of the past going on, but at no point does he lose
sight that this is 2013.

It's not
a nostalgia bandwagon that is being jumped on, but more a lovingly
crafted homage to the roots of UK rock and roll.

His set
provide a personal Road to Damascus moment.

A
lighting strike that shattered the expectations that I had.

What
Cabey is doing keys right into a genuine music fans understanding of
the history of music.

You can't
fake that.

A Tuesday
night, three acts, three styles loosely connected by the acoustic
tag, free entry.